Firefly
by Chrono.clockwork
Summary: He was her greatest downfall. She loved him first. Mafia AU
1. Cold

Allena couldn't remember a time before where she'd really been in control.

As a child, she'd been her parents little toy, an experiment more then their child. They'd dressed her up in pretty clothes and taken her to all the social events they could fit into their calendar. She'd had to stand by as she was shown off to the people her parents were trying to impress (her parents called them friends, but even her young mind knew that those people were really just vultures looking for their next meal.)

Her only refuge were her studies, quiet nights alone in the den with books that would never give her anything but knowledge. She was a particularly bright child- her vocabulary at age ten surpassed that of most people twice and even thrice her age. And when her parents discovered that, they used it to propel them even higher.

That was her childhood- always in the spotlight, but always alone.

She read all manners of books to try and escape the lonely chasm that had become her life. She'd dream that one day, she'd be the girl swept off her feet and taken away from her hell (she believed that hell was a very real place, although her parents had never enforced any kind of religion.) She tried to believe that one day, she'd experience the world through the end of her own fingertips instead of through the pages of a book.

She was what her parents considered a "triple-threat"- she had money, brains, and, what they considered most important, beauty. She'd taken after her mother, and it became more and more obvious as she grew older. She was a small, graceful young woman with jewel-blue eyes set into a heart shaped face. Many a night her mother would brush her hair back from her face and tell her, "One day, you'll be the talk of the town. Then some rich, powerful young man will fall in love and sweep you away."

She were right, and her life took a turn for the worse.

Behind the glittering, beautiful world that Allena was forced into, there was a darker, dirtier place. Crime organizations ruled the underground- and most of the above ground as well. Gangs ran rampant in a never-ending war that decimated neighborhoods and terrorized cities. And the leader of one of the most powerful gangs in the city, maybe even in the world, had taken a keen interest in the young prodigy.

It was all business. Her parents, more then delighted by his power and wealth, were more then willing to overlook his crime affiliations and hand their daughter over. And thus, the miserable child that was Allena Perry became the miserable adult known as Allena Duke.

She had just turned 18.

It was a beautiful, terrible life. Allena was given everything a woman could want. She had every little trinket and toy that would have made any other woman swoon. There were women to wait on her and make sure she never had to lift a finger. And every single night, she found herself alone.

The only thing given to her that she really enjoyed was the vast library he had provided for her- at her request, of course. He undermined her brilliance, didn't believe that women should be- _could_ be- educated. But for all his talk he wasn't one to deny her anything she requested. Maybe that was his own twisted version of love, or maybe he believed he could buy her happiness just like he bought his own. She began to believe that was all love was- the deeper the love, the higher the price tag.

By the time she reached the age of 21, she'd begun to slip into depression. She'd curl up in her library and watch as the tears fell onto the pages of whatever book she had picked up and smeared the words, and she couldn't even be bothered to care. Life had become meaningless.

It was then that he decided to saunter into her life.


	2. Contact

**A/N: **A slightly longer, just as shitty chapter yaaay. The first two chapters are kind of the build up to the main point of the story. Thus, being the bad author/mommy I am, I paid very little attention to them. My apologies. I promise (hope) that the chapters afterwards are slightly more digestable. I probably should have just combined the first and second chapters together and saved you guys the bullet. Oh well.  
>Someone made a comment that they'd never seen anything like this in the Gears archives, and I realized they were right. While I feel kind of cool for stepping into unknown territory, I'm also kind of nervous. Is there a reason this hasn't been done before? Is extreme AU a total no-no for Gears of War? Have I just stepped on a bomb that's going to explode me into exile?<br>I know, I get nervous over silly things.

Damon Baird hadn't so much walked into her life as fought, cursed, and then finally tripped into it. He was the new kid on the block, although he wasn't new to the underground- he'd been one of her husband's (god, that word was such a joke) "conquests"- meaning he'd been too good to kill when they'd taken out his old gang's base of operations. He had to have possessed talents her husband wanted; these days, no one was really in the "taking prisoners" business. There was a pile of skeletons in a corner of the junkyard to prove it.

She could remember clearly the first day he'd been dragged across the floor of their living room, an angry, defiant stare on his face as he'd looked up at her husband, sitting like a king with her standing behind his chair. His gaze had drifted to her during a long speech about the chance he was being given and how it would benefit him greatly to accept the offer before him- and he'd watched her like he could see right through her, right into the tiny black ball that was her soul.

He'd taken his eyes off of her only for a moment, to look at his new boss and nod his head once, his mouth too swollen for speech.

From there, it was chance encounters; he'd come by the house for a moment as part of her husband's escort, leaning against the doorway like he owned the place as she offered them refreshments. Sometimes he'd actually come in if her husband had to fetch some files (those were heavily guarded by the best security systems this world had to offer, and it often took him half an hour just to bypass all of his security codes.) Then, he'd sit on the couch with the others, but while they'd banter or make some crude comment about her he'd just watch her as if she were the most interesting thing in the room. Whenever he caught her eye he'd just smirk at her, as if he knew exactly what she was thinking. It made her feel awkward and uncomfortable and strange, but more often then not she found herself staring back. And she'd feel some odd pull towards him, one that never completely went away even when he was gone.

Eventually they'd had a little "party" at the house, and she was obligated to play the role of the content housewife (events like this made her want to tear her hair out.) She'd worn a soft blue dress that night, one of the few dresses her husband had gotten her that she'd actually liked. It was a big enough deal that she refused his request to wear the red number he'd recently bought her (it clung to her skin in embarrassing, uncomfortable ways, and with the amount of skin it showed she might as well have gone out there naked.) She'd plastered a fake smile on and was bringing a punch bowl into the room when he'd (quite literally) run into her.

Red punch spilled all over the two of them- she was pretty sure her favorite dress was ruined, as was his white shirt. She'd looked down at her empty hands, at the punch pooled at their feet, and all she could think was _maybe I should have worn red after all._

She vaguely remembered murmuring apologies as they both knelt down to pick up the bowl. Their hands brushed; she looked up to find keen blue eyes examining her, one blonde eyebrow arched precariously over them. She braced herself for him to yell at her, to call her something nasty as the other men were wont to do when she'd messed something up (her husband's men were… brutes. There was no other word for it.)

Instead, he'd surprised her with a grin and some clever remark that was probably meant to sting, but didn't. Before she was even aware of it, she'd replied with her own clever, biting remark, and his grin widened slightly as surprised delight flared up in his eyes. He helped her mop up the mess on the floor, and she found herself offering to get him a clean shirt; he'd shrugged, and she'd taken him by the arm and led him up the stairs to "their" room.

(It was more her room then anything; he never slept in there. If he wasn't in some hotel room with another woman he was out "doing business.")

She'd pushed him down onto the trunk at the foot of the bed, then went to fetch a shirt for him, digging through the large closet until she found what she was looking for. She'd come out of the closet with the shirt held up in her hands, ready to compare it to his frame to make sure it would fit- and came to a stunned stop two steps away from the closet door, her eyes widening in surprise. He'd stripped out of his punch-soaked shirt and had been in the process of balling it up when she came in, a small sound of surprise making him privy to her presence. Her cheeks heated up instantly, and she probably would have tossed the shirt at him and fled had it been polite to do so.

Instead, she'd swallowed her embarrassment and walked over with what little poise she could muster, her hand trembling slightly as she'd handed him the shirt. She forced herself to look away, refusing to watch the play of light on well-defined muscles…

Instead of taking the shirt, he took her hand, pulling him against him. That pull she felt in her chest increased tenfold, making her feel like it was about to burst as she'd tilted her head to look up at him. That blade of a smirk she'd become accustomed to touched his lips, his blue eyes probing hers for a tense moment.

Before she could even comprehend what was happening, he'd bobbed his head down to hers, his lips brushing over hers in the gentlest of gestures. A small, startled sound escaped her at the unexpected contact, the heat in her cheeks flaring up as he pulled away. A slow fire began on her lips, and she'd actually lifted a hand to brush her fingers over them.

He'd kissed her. It was her first kiss.

Her husband had never even kissed her; their wedding had been all business (going to a church was too dangerous; he could have been attacked there. They said their vows in his office to a priest, exchanged rings, and she'd signed her soul over to the devil, but that was about it.) None of the others dared to even touch her; crude comments were as far as they went. They knew not to touch the boss's wife.

Either he didn't quite get that, or he just didn't give a damn; either way, he'd broken the rules, and she wasn't sure she minded. He'd smirked at her expression and murmured a thanks, before stepping away from her to shrug his shirt on. He'd watched her as he slipped buttons through holes, one eyebrow arched as he asked if she was going to change. Then, a smirk that was more predatory then anything touched his lips, his eyes fixed on hers.

"I could always help you out of that."

A braver woman would have stripped out of that dress in an instant. Allena retreated, stammering an almost incoherent mixture of apologies, excuses, and a healthy dose of "get the fuck out" (Not phrased in those exact words, but he got the meaning well enough.) With a slow swagger and eyes set to kill, he left, the door closing silently behind him.

When she returned to the party, he was the only one watching her, sipping at a glass of wine with a faint, almost mocking sparkle in his eyes.

**A/N 2.0:** Baird is kinda creepy and ooc in this chapter. I don't know if he'd stare as much as run his mouth off. Neeeeeeh...


	3. Guardians

**A/N:** Wow guys, this is waaaay late XD I meant to update sooner, but things got kinda hectic as I tried to get ready for Anime Expo (which was AMAZING. Did anyone else go?) Anyways, enough of my babble. I kinda hate this chapter but it sets up the rest of the story. BAIRD WHY CAN'T I WRITE YOU IN CHARACTER?  
><strong>-=V=-<strong>

Allena learned quickly that in her husband's line of business, no one was safe. Her parents opted to overlook it, but even they knew Allena was in constant danger just by sharing his last name. Things were quickly escalating all around them, and they all knew it was only a matter of time before it all boiled over- and when it did, Allena was caught in the crossfire.

It was only meant to be shopping trip, she thought dazedly as she was rushed to the hospital, sirens blaring over her head. She tried to focus her eyes on the paramedic as he strapped an oxygen mask to her face, but they just wouldn't cooperate with her. Blood was trickling into one of them, tinting her vision red.

It was later, in the hospital, that she learned a bomb had been planted in the vehicle. It was her husband's car- hers was in the shop, so he'd leant her his. Someone must have thought he was driving it, or they just didn't care who they killed as long as it was one of _his_ people. She'd received thirteen stitches in her head, a cracked rib, and a plethora of cuts and bruises that would leave her aching for days, but at least she was alive. Her helper, Sarah, hadn't been so lucky.

She'd watched as her husband came into the room slowly, her vision fuzzy thanks to the painkillers they had her on. He'd taken one look at her, his face void of emotion, and then turned to talk to… someone. She felt so damn _tired_, and it was so easy to fall asleep on the painkillers. She fought to open her eyes when he turned back to her, dark eyes sweeping over her small, battered frame.

"Stay with her," she heard him say, the words distorted as her eyelids became too heavy for her to keep up.

**-=V=-**

"Well, it's about damn time you woke up."

Allena's eyes fluttered open, her vision blurry before finally focusing sharply on the ceiling. She turned her head slowly to the side, her eyes falling on the man sitting next to her bed. She inhaled sharply, then winced, lifting one hand to her ribs as she slowly pushed herself up. The blonde smirked at her, shaking his head.

"You probably shouldn't do that, you know."

"What are you doing here," she asked, exhaling slowly.

"What does it look like I'm doing," he asked mockingly. "I'm babysitting." Allena gave him a blank stare; he sighed dramatically. "You know, making sure no one sneaks in here to try and blow you up again?"

"My husband sent you," she realized, her voice flat.

"Give the girl a cookie," he returned sarcastically. She sighed and settled back into the pillows, closing her eyes for a moment. She felt oddly disappointed; maybe it was the lack of having anyone come and see her because they wanted to. Friends were a novelty she just didn't have, and knowing her parents, they were probably off cruising the world and were too far away to check in on their daughter.

She opened her eyes and frowned, rubbing at her arm. It was itchy where they had put in the I.V. needles; if she could have, she probably would have pulled them out right there and then. She _hated_ needles.

"Quit squirming, you'll tear the needles out," the man at her bedside said, sounding more amused then anything. She pulled her hand away for a moment, and then put it back, making a face. It was extremely itchy for some reason, and it took most of her willpower not to scratch and pull the needles out. He sighed and reached out, grabbing her hands and pulling them away from where the needles were inserted. "Do you ever listen?" She looked up at him, a frown on her face, and then froze when she realized that he was _too close._ He seemed to realize their predicament at the exact moment she did; a smirk touched his lips as he looked down at her.

"This looks familiar," he stated, making her cheeks flush a hot, embarrassed red as an image of the party, her room, flashed unbidden into her head. He chuckled at her, then leaned away from her, letting go of her hands. "Can I trust you to keep yourself out of trouble for a few minutes? I'm gonna grab a nurse." He pointed at her arm with one hand, raising an eyebrow. "_Don't_ tear those out. Or it's my head on a plate, got it?" As soon as he left, she sunk into the pillows, her heart racing a thousand miles a minute. Sure, he was the most docile (_docile._ Oh dear lord.) of the men that she knew to linger about the house, but right at that moment she wished that her husband has sent anyone _but_ him.

She didn't even know his name (she knew what they called him, but that didn't mean it was his name), and he seemed to know exactly how to push her buttons. She sighed and pressed a hand to her head, rubbing her eye with her palm. She paused as the door opened again, looking up with a small frown on her face.

_That was… fast._

She froze when her husband came into the room, his face expressionless as he came to a stop at the foot of the bed and stared at her. She shrunk back into the pillows a bit on reflex, then cleared her throat and greeted him. He nodded his head in acknowledgement, sliding his hands into his pockets.

"The doctors will be releasing you today."

She only watched him, blinking slowly- she had learned that when it came to her husband, silence was her best option. "Baird will take you home once they-"

"You aren't taking me," she said in spite of herself, surprised and a little hurt. He paused, watching her.

"I have business to attend to," he told her, words she had heard a thousand times before. "I'm sorry." She only lowered her eyes, nodding her head once. "Baird will escort you home and make sure nothing happens to you." An awkward silence descended over them- it was a godsend when Baird and the nurse came back in.

"Oh, hello Mr. Duke," the nurse said with a bright smile. Nothing was said to Allena as the nurse came to check on the needles sticking out of her arm, then bustled around to check the monitors next to the bed. "You're wife has made a speedy recovery, I'm just going to take the needles out and then you can take her home." Allena flinched as the nurse pulled the needles out- there was nothing gentle about the procedure as the nurse continued to chatter.

"I'll be leaving her in the custody of my brother," her husband said, indicating Baird. It didn't matter to the nurse that neither men looked anything alike- Baird was blonde, shorter and sleeker, while her husband had dark hair and fairly towered over all of them. If he said it was his brother, then it was his brother- and Allena suspected there was more behind it then the money that he put into this hospital.

"That's fine," the nurse said, ever cheery. "I'll just need you to sign some things before you go. If you'll come with me?" He nodded and followed the nurse out, leaving Allena alone with Baird once more.

"She's certainly a piece of work," he whistled, settling into a chair. Allena remained quiet, staring sullenly at the door and rubbing her arm. "Talks too much, but she's got a great ass." He glanced at her, one blonde eyebrow arched up.

"Where are my clothes," she asked, changing the subject. He smirked, both of them knowing he'd been striking at a nerve. They'd seen how her husband had eyed the nurse- more appropriately, eyed her backside- as she'd led the way out of the room.

"They didn't survive," he said with a casual shrug. "Looks like you get to walk out of here naked." She gave him a harsh glare, which he only smirked at. "Take a joke, kid. The nurse should bring you something when she comes back." Allena only glared, then looked up as the nurse came back in, a bundle in her hands.

"You're free to go," she said, the pleasantness she'd addressed her husband with gone. "Here are some clothes for you. Check out at the front desk once you've finished changing." Allena got up and gathered her possessions with a sigh, wishing, not for the first time, that she'd never gotten married.

**-=V=-**

There was some relief that came with returning home. The mansion may have been a lonely place, but it was also a safe place. Allena slid out of the jeep that Baird drove (the vehicle was a real monster; one of those cars where you would walk away completely unscathed if you got in an accident in it) and headed straight for the front door, wanting tea and a nap. The crunch of gravel behind her caused her to look over her shoulder, alarm flashing across her features when she spotted Baird following after her.

"What are you doing," she asked, turning to face him. He raised an eyebrow at her, one hand in his pocket as he came to a stop in front of her.

"I told you, I'm babysitting you," he said. She gave him a blank stare, causing him to sigh. "Come on kid, you've got to be smarter then that."

"You mean you're my bodyguard," she asked, the revelation vaguely horrifying.

"Bingo," he said with a smirk. "Didn't your dear husband tell you?" As a matter of fact, he had failed to mention that little detail, Allena thought, staring at him. "Come on, it isn't safe to be standing out here."

"You can't be serious," she finally managed, finding her voice. He rolled his eyes at her and turned her around, pushing her towards the door.

"Get moving, cupcake, I'd rather not get chewed out for letting my boss' wife get killed today." She stumbled slightly as they headed for the front door, despair settling over her.


	4. Setting Fire to the Rain

**A/N:** okay, wow. I didn't really think I'd be coming back to this, or at least I had been planning on rewriting it, but I looked at it and realized that I kind of like it the way it is. This is the way this story was supposed to be written, and yeah, maybe Baird is a little OOC almost all the time but it's a different situation. He's still gonna be surly old asshole Baird, but I don't think his bitchiness is gonna be so black and white here.

See, the way I see it, at this point in her life Allena is absolutely pathetic. And Baird hates pathetic, but it's not like he can just turn tail and get out because this is a world where his employers can find him and punish him severely. Like, kill him, severely. So he's going to push her to stop being so damn pathetic. He's an asshole with ulterior motives and relatively decent intentions, I guess. Are you guys following my train of thought?

I'm explaining this because I want you guys to know that I know what I'm doing, relatively. I know Baird is a bit OOC, it's not like I'm trying to write him and it's just a complete fail. I'm writing a Baird that lives in a totally different world, and I hope that makes this a little bit more palpable. And if you guys think he's still too OOC even with that in mind, then I know I have to change my writing style a bit.

Anyways, I hope you guys enjoy this. and happy holidays!

**-=V=-**

Allena couldn't get comfortable with the fact that someone, a _stranger_, was in her house. It took weeks for her to stop jumping whenever she spotted him, for her to stop asking where her husband was and what he was doing there. The worst thing was, it was like he could sense her discomfort, and he'd push whatever buttons he could, mostly by getting the drop on her as she rounded a corner.

The rainy season had begun, and Allena was stuck inside, staring miserably out as rain battered the house. She looked up as the door opened, the haunting sound of rain echoing throughout the empty halls beyond the door and reverberating into the room.

"Yes," she asked stiffly, as her eyes settled on Baird. He smirked, leaning casually against the doorway.

"Well, don't you look absolutely miserable," he noted, bobbing his head in her direction. She gave him a dark look as he came in, pushing the door closed behind him. "You just gonna sit there all day looking like someone killed your cat?"

"What else is there to do," she asked before she could stop herself, the words biting and sarcastic. "It's not like I can just waltz out of here."

"Well, why not," he shot back, raising an eyebrow at her. "I'm not here to keep you under house arrest or anything. I just have to make sure you don't die. Come on, kid, you're making my job way too easy here."

"I'm not a kid," she sniffed. "And isn't that what everyone wants, an easy job?" _An easy life, an easy job, a family, happiness, something I'm never gonna have-_

Her train of thought startled her, and she had to shake her head to clear them from her mind. Baird only snorted at her, rolling his eyes.

"Life's no fun without a few risks," he said with a smirk. "What, cars blowing up too much excitement for you?" She glared at him, wishing he'd go away.

"It's raining, anyways-"

"Oh boo-hoo, poor kitty," he snorted. "You afraid to get your hair wet?" She felt the anger rising up, and before she could stop herself she'd pushed herself to her feet, shoving past him. She stormed through the house, and she could hear him following her- no doubt with that stupid, arrogant smirk dancing across his lips.

She threw open the front door and went out onto the porch, cold air fanning across her skin. She shivered, but ignored the cold as she hopped off the porch, throwing her arms out as the rain pelted against her.

"There," she shouted, turning to face him. "Are you happy?" He smirked and watched her from the porch, crossing his arms as he leaned casually against one of the porch supports. She stared him down as the rain drenched her, her dark hair plastering itself to her face and skull.

"How's the water," he asked, a mocking smile on his face. She made a frustrated sound, realizing how ridiculous she must look, and stormed back up the steps, wiping water from her eyes. She made a beeline for the door, but he reached out and stopped her by putting an arm around her waist. She stumbled, bumping her hip against his as she tried to keep her balance.

"What are you doing," she snapped at him, turning an icy glare on him. He quirked an eyebrow at her, his large hand resting on her waist.

"You giving up," he asked. Before she could ask what the hell he was talking about, he bobbed his head towards the open courtyard and the rain. "You're going to just go back inside because it's what everyone expects of you?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," she said, obviously frustrated. She shoved his arm away and took a step back, ending up back out in the rain. "I'm going back inside because it's cold out here, and only a stupid person would stay out here to get sick." He snorted, rolling his eyes at her.

"Yeah, keep telling yourself that sunshine," he said. "How old are you again, grandma? I'm pretty sure your immune system is tougher then that."

"I'm going inside," she said, rolling her eyes and heading back in. She let the door slam behind her, knowing he'd come in anyways. She stood in the foyer for a second, nothing but the sound of rain beating against the house and her labored breathing. She impatiently pushed sopping wet hair out of her eyes, still angry and embarrassed over what she'd done.

_Why? _

_Because it's what everyone expects of you._

She paused, his words ringing in her head. She felt her hands shaking and realized that she'd balled them into fists; she forced herself to relax, taking deep breathes. What had he meant, it was what everyone expected of her? No one expected anything from her, she was the wife of a prominent man, someone who was graceful and collected and mature-

Oh.

She suddenly felt old, older then her 21 years of age, and had to resist the urge to fling herself back out into the rain and scream. Instead, she went up the stairs to her room to shower and change, hearing the front door open as she pushed open the door to her room.


End file.
